What's Wrong With a Little Destrution?
by NotebookChen
Summary: Damien's taken a few years off of earth in hell, and he's not only calmed down, but decided to come back. His shadow follows him and helps with those South Park kids, but how will loner Damien compare to old expectations of bastard Damien? T for curses


---EXCERPT FROM DAMIEN'S JOURNAL---

----------------------------------------------------------------------page one

J- (dear journal, or fucking whatever)

Augh... I'm up in a tree.  
Didn't plan it, just kind of ended up here.  
Hell is rather boring these days, and I've finally made the decision to come live up there, with the other kids from my new high school...  
Well, I need a house, right? Even I need somewhere to live... So; I ended up scouting the area for houses, and when none showed up for sale here, I figured if I twisted enough arms downstairs, favors could be called in and someone would either bring up some money or talk to my dad for me.  
Augh... I don't want this to turn into a talk about my dad.  
Anyways, NOW; I'm up in a tree, searching for a plot of land to build on. Fuck trees. I officially loathe trees...

(two minutes later)

Okay, I just burned a whole branch... I feel better.

(three hours later; around ten thirty at night)

Alright, I found a spot. It's pretty spacious, with wild thyme all over it. I love that plant. It burns well, and it's ironically named, because i feel like i'm wasting time. ("burning thyme") (thyme is pronounced time) ...why am I explaining this to you? You're a fucking journal. I'm only writing in you because after that whole ordeal downstairs with the room, ive calmed down a bit, or whatever...

back to talking about the house-  
The land is really flat; great for building, and as I speak, three of my followers are arguing with some lawyers about shit I didn't need to know, while many more are building me a medium sized house. My closest-thing-to-a best friend, Suiris, will live with me. Hold on, they're fucking up the star-gazing roof.

More later.

(another hour later)

It would probably seem fast to you (journal...) how short they got this all done, but my new home is built, and Suiris and I are sitting at my new kitchen table (well; he's next to my feet). I hope midnight comes soon...

Tomorrow is my first day at school here...

So random. This first entry was pointless. Im going to go check my house out.

-D (Damien, if you havent guessed)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------page two

J-

Well, I figured I may as well get this over with. I mean, if i'm to be keeping a journal, I may as well write all that journal shit that usually goes in here, right? Right. First; to set the scene. Suiris is my dog. I named him Suiris because it's ironically Sirius backwards, and he's the darkest star of the night, if you think of him poetically. He is a guy, like me. Not a literal bitch. He ...he is actually not a dog, he's a shadow. He just likes forming a dog, probably because I named him after the dogstar, or maybe it has something to do with his personality. If you want to be technical, he's _my _shadow, which might cause problems in school... Oh, but he can't talk. Right before "mom" died, she cursed my shadow as a gift. Suiris can walk around, form any shape (even three dimensions),_ leave_ if he wants, but he's too loyal to leave. ...must be a shadow thing... He lives with me in a house that is probably too big for me in a town, South Park, which is probably too small for us. The followers I mentioned before? I just call them that. They're actually only demons that cater to my every fucking whim because they're afraid of my _father _(which is stupid, he's not scary), and I hate them. But they come in handy. "Mom"? Oh, well, she's not actually related to me. She's the witch-demon that cursed my dad (augh...) into having- as he puts it; creating, as "mom" and I put it, me. I don't have a real mom, (or a navel, for that matter...) but ive had a few dozen temporary step-dads. "Mom" died when this crazy guy, Saddam or something, burned her- but a few months before that was my birthday. My last present from her? Suiris. All caught up? I do think of "Mom" as my mother, but I still prefer using those quotes. What the hell do you care? You're a fucking journal. Where was I? Setting the scene, yes. Suiris is curled up at my feet, and I'm slouched on my black bed sheets. I've been here all of an hour, and, as you can tell by my first entry, Ive so far spent more time in the snow (OR IN A FUCKING TREE) than in here, yet I still kind of want to go back out.

I like the stars...

-D

---END EXCERPT---

Damien shut the journal with charisma, awaking (well, since he cant actually sleep; alerting) Suiris. Green numbers glowing in an otherwise dark room informed Damien that it was forty eight past midnight. In roughly six hours, he would be the new kid again, or would he technically just be an old kid who came back? ...Did it matter? The red-eyed teenager kept a blank expression, biting his lip out of boredom. He didn't have fangs, contrary to popular belief, but his carnivorous teeth were sharp enough to pierce the skin.

Licking the blood off his lips, Damien tussled Suiris's fur (only he could feel him, though all could see him) and stood up off his bed, stretching nonchalantly and wandering the new house, turning on the kitchen lights. (manually, instead of 'forcing' the switch, because Damien's dad agreed he could live here on the condition that his powers stayed behind in hell. Of course, being Damien, he had stolen back his ability to set fires right before his leave, unbeknown by his dad. He had to keep at least something that tied him to his name, right?)

Suiris jumped up on the table and Damien smiled. Back in hell, his dad would get angry if Damien let Suiris do things 'normal' dogs weren't supposed to do. Now that he had his own house, Damien shared a rare smile with his eternal follower- breaking old rules was just one of the things that could turn Damien's still-bleeding lips up.

"Well, well, well, Suiris- I guess im joining you in the insomniac vigil." Suiris couldn't answer, but he could nod- which is what he did when Damien decided that he would rather eat strait-from-the-fridge steak then sleep tonight, blaming it on 'jet-lag'.

Damien finished off the cold piece of steak strait from the tub-a-ware and looked out the window at the dark moonlight coating the snow. "Think anyone'll remember me?" he asked, not entirely expecting an answer. Suiris formed himself into the shape Damien's shadow should have been, leaving him to his thoughts. Damien had never felt more alone, yet more calm, more _free_ in his life. "I hope so too." he commented to the now 'empty' room, but he himself wasn't entirely sure what he had been hoping. It had been six, maybe seven years since his last visit here, but he had always wanted to come back. He got his wish- but this would be his first time in an earthly high school. Would it be different that the one downstairs? Would it be just the same? He hoped not. Sophomore year; here Damien comes- ready or not.


End file.
